It was back in the winter of Ninety –nine,
the day before Paddy’s on Chicago’s south side,
when a routine traffic stop turned deadly for one;
James Camp was shot in the face with his own gun.
Kevin Dean was the killer, his victim wore blue.
Dean did what he’d previously threatened he’d do.
He was out on probation for attempting such a deed.
On this day he struck and he made a “pig” bleed.
It’s a very fine line we police have to toe;
Act too fast- you’re a bully- Be a corpse if too slow.
There was a fierce struggle and one shot was fired;
Fold a flag for the widow whose Love has expired.
Kevin Dean is in custody, charged with the crime.
This time there’s no bail and he’ll surely do time.
In a Cop bar we sat, nursing grievances and beers.
We’re alone on the streets and we have been for years.
The smell of turned earth and a young widow’s tears,
were fresh in our memory as the next roll call neared.